


mess is mine

by helenecixous



Category: How to Get Away with Murder
Genre: F/F, Kind of spoilery?, Past Abuse, Past Child Abuse, but i had fun and that's what matters, idk i'm so bad with tags, it's fluff, it's just fluff and a bit of hurt/comfort, this is bad I'm sorry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-14
Updated: 2016-01-14
Packaged: 2018-05-13 21:20:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,652
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5717506
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/helenecixous/pseuds/helenecixous
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bonnie wanted to scream. She wanted to stand up and scream at her boss. I’m here! she would say. I’m here and I’ve been here since day one! I’ve done everything for you - would do anything for you! Why won’t you just see me?! And God, would she give Annalise the moon if she asked. Bonnie would do the impossible, she would go to the ends of the earth without hesitation to make Annalise Keating smile.</p>
            </blockquote>





	mess is mine

**Author's Note:**

> ok so sam was involved in the death of lila, but it all happened way before it does in canon. in this, sam went down for lila's murder and is in prison. presumably he has been for a while. i don't know. who knows.

She remembers the first time she met Annalise. She remembers being intimidated, in awe, and she remembers thinking that there was nothing she wanted more than to be able to work with her. She later learned, a few months in, that people don’t work _with_ Annalise Keating, they only work _for_ her. Professor Keating was a woman who had built herself up from, presumably, nothing at all. She was a woman whose husband was involved in the death of his student. She was a woman who had carried on working through Sam Keating’s trial, who saw them take him away to lock him up. She was a woman who knew the risks of depending on people, and she was a woman who never seemed to need to.

It took Bonnie roughly two days of working under Annalise to establish two very important facts:

  1. You don’t question anything. And that meant _anything._
  2. Annalise isn’t someone who likes to be surprised.



Annalise’s assistant lasted just over four months. Bonnie wasn’t quite sure what happened, there were raised voices and slammed doors and the smashing of what sounded like a tumbler, and Annalise had appeared in the office and told her to leave. Bonnie had gathered up her things and left the house as quickly and as quietly as she could - feeling so timid and out of place. She’d received a phone call an hour later from Annalise, telling her to meet her at court tomorrow at 9 o’clock sharp. “I need you to be my person now, Bonnie,” she’d said. Bonnie had, of course, agreed.

 

***

 

It felt as though she’d been working for Annalise for years, as though they’d known each other forever. She fit into her house - her life - almost seamlessly, content to tuck herself away in a corner and work. And Annalise was content to let her exist quietly, more of a presence of work than an actual entity. Someone to vent to, to work with, to make do the dirty work and to make the phone calls that she didn’t fancy, someone to drink with and pass time with. That wasn’t to say that they were close, but gazes lingered sometimes when Annalise had had a few vodkas. They lingered and made Bonnie burn and squirm and after hours spent trying to figure out her boss, she eventually gave it up as a bad job and let it slide. Each time Annalise’s eyes (which were really quite beautiful, Bonnie realised) stayed on her for a little too long, a blush would slowly stain Bonnie’s cheeks and she would look away, afraid that she was being tested, that Annalise would take one look at her and be able to read and recognise her deepest secrets.

 

***

 

“Did you speak with the DA?” Annalise asked, walking into the office and dropping her coat and bag down on the sofa before turning to look at Bonnie expectantly, her hands on her hips.

Bonnie faltered for just a second, fumbling for the paper and nodding. “I- yes. He said there could be a delay, but they’re going to look for CCTV evidence themselves, and then let us have the tapes.”

“Get on the phone and tell him that’s not good enough,” Annalise said. “That leaves us open to far too much speculation. We need that footage exactly as it is.”

Bonnie nodded, pushing her hair behind her ear as she reached for the phone. Annalise moved into the kitchen and then came back, standing in the doorway and watching the other woman carefully for a minute.

“Oh and Bonnie?”

“Yes, Annalise?”

“Officer Heneghan called. Asked if you could call back. She said it was urgent.” She watched as Bonnie’s face fell for a split second upon hearing the name, before she was putting herself back together again and nodding briskly.

“Thanks, I’ll get that done later.”

Annalise hummed to herself, her gaze inscrutable as she surveyed the other woman, and Bonnie looked away, picking the phone up and dialling the DA, refusing to look up at her boss until she heard Annalise shift. She looked up and watched her walk away, closing her eyes for a moment of peace when her stomach swooped and she caught herself noticing the curve of Annalise’s hips and the definition of her calves, the way she lowered herself into a chair as though it was her throne. Bonnie cursed under her breath, jerking out of her reverie when the DA picked up, and she forced herself to keep working.

 

***

 

“Lock the door when you leave,” Annalise said, coming into the office and fastening an earring. “I’m going out.”

Bonnie looked up from the file she was reading, and opened her mouth to respond. Whatever she had planned on saying died on her lips, escaping as a breathy ‘oh’ as she stared at her boss. Annalise’s hair was loosely curled, and a dark blue dress hugged each curve and dip of her body. The professor half turned and Bonnie’s eyes widened at the sight of the backless dress, her gaze following the outline of her boss’s body down to the heels she was wearing, and she swallowed.

“Um, yeah- yeah, I will,” she managed, picking up another file and becoming suddenly deeply interested in its content. “Yeah. Don’t worry.”

Annalise smirked, crossing the room and leaning over the desk behind which Bonnie sat. She watched the other woman’s jaw working furiously, and gently tugged the file from her hands. Her lips quirked in a cruel grin, and she turned the file the right way up and handed it back, arching an eyebrow as she stepped back and straightened up. “Don’t work too late. I need you here early in the morning to clean up the mess that those witness statements made. And please, for my sanity, make sure none of this leaks out. We’re not ready for that, and the press are going to love it. Don’t fuck it up, and don’t think that you’re irreplaceable.”

Bonnie nodded, her cheeks burning bright red. “Of course,” she muttered, daring to look up and meet Annalise’s eyes. “Have a nice night.” And then the other woman was gone, leaving nothing but the echo of a closing door and the faint smell of perfume. Bonnie leaned back in the chair, exhaling loudly to the ceiling. Christ, she was in way too deep. How old was she? Why was she getting all flustered over her _boss,_ of all people? Why did Annalise make her feel like she was falling every time their eyes met?

“Get it together, Bonnie,” she whispered, scrubbing her eyes and throwing the file down. “God, get it together. If she wanted someone to sit here and moon over her she’d have invited a student back. Stop this now.”

After about an hour of drifting from one stack of paperwork to the next, Bonnie was finally able to focus her attention on the case at hand. She allowed herself to become so absorbed, so desperate for Annalise’s attention and God knows, her _approval,_ that she worked way into the night, making notes and photocopying and organising the relevant information into new separate (colour coded) binders.

 _Don’t think that you’re irreplaceable_ , Annalise had said, and the words echoed through Bonnie’s mind every time she rested. Of course she wasn’t stupid enough or naive enough to believe that she wasn’t; she’d seen what had become of the last woman in her position who pissed off Annalise. A few days after she’d been fired, emails had leaked which showed the woman to have been committing crime after crime by way of briberies and manipulation of evidence. She’d been ruined. And as much as Bonnie wanted to believe that Annalise would never do such a thing, would never set someone up for a fall that harsh, she still had her doubts. Her boss was not an angel - some might have even said that she wasn’t even a good person, but there was something about her. Something about the way her eyes soften when she thinks nobody's looking, or the way her posture relaxes when she takes off her shoes, or even the way she smirks when she wins a case that made Bonnie irritatingly and absolutely, _wholly_ adore her boss.

In her bag, her mobile started buzzing and she sighed, reaching for it absently and touching accept. “Hello?” she asked, running a hand through her hair as she leant back.

“Ms. Winterbottom?” a voice asked, and Bonnie nodded.

“Speaking.”

“My name’s Caroline Hart and I’m calling on behalf of Laura Heneghan. I’m sorry to call you so late - do you have a moment?”

Bonnie sighed, sitting forward and resting her forehead on the desk. “Yes, absolutely. It’s not a problem.”

“We tried to get in contact with you sooner, but we kept missing you and didn’t hear back.” _Shit, she forgot._ “It’s in relation to Mr. Winterbottom.”

Bonnie nodded, wanting to laugh. “I thought as much,” she muttered, sitting up and rubbing her forehead.

“This is something we normally do in person, but we’re running short of staff and time. For good behaviour and compliance, Mr. Winterbottom is due to be released in two weeks. Legally, we have to let you know, although I’m sure there won’t be any… further issues.”

“I’m sure,” Bonnie repeated, her stomach dropping and churning almost instantly as her ears started to ring and her mouth filled with the taste of iron. She sat up straight and kept her composure. “Thank you.”

“If there are any further issues regarding Mr. Winterbottom, call the police and quote the case number and it will be dealt with effectiv…” The woman kept talking. Bonnie had already forgotten her name. _Karen someone,_ she thought. She looked down at her hand and saw that it was trembling, and she knew that she had gone deathly pale. Her brain short circuited, springing into action and replaying old memories and recalling old feelings, things she thought were long gone, dead and buried. Dead and buried like the old her, the one who got hurt and was vulnerable. She was vaguely aware that the woman on the phone had asked her a question, and she shook her head, blinking rapidly.

“I’m sorry?” she asked, her voice sounding strong and collected, but foreign to her ears.

“I asked whether there was anything else that we could do for you,” Caroline repeated, sounding weary in herself.

 _Not let the bastard out?_ Bonnie thought, but she just shook her head. “No. It’s fine. Thank you for calling.”

The two women exchanged pleasantries and hung up, leaving Bonnie alone in a house that wasn’t hers, her entire world threatening to cave in on her. Everything she’d worked for, all of the progress she’d made in therapy, all of the times she’d told herself that she was safe now, threatening to unravel right in front of her. She’d break down. She might lose her job - oh Christ. _She might lose her job._ What if she broke down and Annalise fired her? What if he found her? What if Annalise found out? She’d think she was weak, incapable - damaged. Too much to deal with.

Bonnie stood up, knocking the chair backwards in her haste. She rushed around the desk and to the bathroom, falling to her knees near the toilet and throwing up, being careful even in her distress not to make any kind of mess. She rested her forehead against the cold rim and shivered, tears sliding down her cheeks slowly as she convinced herself that there was no way her father coming out of prison could not ruin her life. There was also no way that she could go home. Not tonight, not on her own. She’d worked through the night in Annalise’s office before, she could just do that again. It wasn’t as though she would get much sleep either way anyway.

Shakily, Bonnie got to her feet. She flushed the toilet and washed her hands and then her face, double checked that she hadn’t made any mess, and then walked gingerly back into the office, sitting down and pulling the witness statements towards her with a sigh. She would win Annalise this case if it killed her.

 

***

 

Hours later, Bonnie had her head buried in a book trying to find a law that would discredit the statements in front of her. She just need something, just _one thing_ to show Annalise, to show her and prove to her that she was capable, that she could work, and work well, no matter what. Just one thin-

The front door opened and there was hushed conversation in the hallway. Bonnie looked up, blinking away her tiredness and perking up despite herself. Maybe Annalise would sit with her. They could work through it together. She strained to hear more.

A rustle of clothing and a low laugh told her that Annalise wasn’t alone. Bonnie closed her eyes and rubbed her forehead, hating how much she depended on the other woman already. She worked and worked and worked herself to the point of exhaustion so she could keep up with Annalise’s demands. So she stood a chance of actually impressing the woman. And for what? A brief touch on the shoulder? A coy smile every now and again? Annalise flirted with everyone - it was one of the things she did best. Why on earth did Bonnie ever let herself believe she might be special? _Don’t think that you’re irreplaceable. Don’t think that you’re irreplaceable. Don’t think that you’re irreplaceable._ She sank down so that she was relaxed against the back of the chair as though hoping it would swallow her up and Annalise wouldn’t notice her. Wouldn’t see her like this - tired and scared and weak. But there was a laugh from the hallway and a thud, and then footsteps and muffled moaning. Bonnie looked up as a man she didn’t recognise picked Annalise up and pressed her against the wall, kissing her neck as he tried to push her dress up and past her hips.

Bonnie wanted to scream. She wanted to stand up and scream at her boss. _I’m here!_ she would say. _I’m here and I’ve been here since day one! I’ve done everything for you - would do anything for you! Why won’t you just_ see _me?!_ And God, would she give Annalise the moon if she asked. Bonnie would do the impossible, she would go to the ends of the earth without hesitation to make Annalise Keating smile.

Just as her blue eyes filled with tears and she looked away from the couple, Annalise’s brown ones opened. Her gaze found Bonnie and her expression shifted. She looked disappointed. Ashamed. Angry. She tapped the man on the shoulder and he groaned but let her down, grumbling. She ignored him and looked straight at Bonnie.

“Why the hell are you still here?” she snapped, breathless and bright eyed but quite simply _furious._ “Don’t you have a home to go to? I’m not some kind of charity - some landlady who’s going to take pity on you and let you stay!”

Bonnie flushed and nodded, getting to her feet. “I was just- I was just working-” she tried to explain, feeling like the floor had disappeared and she was falling inside herself.

“Working,” Annalise repeated, her tone murderous. She was drunk and she was angry, sick of being the wife of a murderer. But that was the thing, when you were a woman. She was the most successful lawyer in her field, but now she was reduced, defined by the actions of a man she had grown to despise. “Get out, Bonnie, go home.”

Bonnie didn’t realise she was crying as she grabbed her purse and phone and shoved them into her bag with shaking hands. It was only when the man shook his head and cleared his throat, and mumbled something like he best be getting home, his wife would be expecting him, and this had killed the mood anyway, that Bonnie realised that she was not only crying, but shivering and panicking, unable to maneuver her way around the desk and out of the room.

Annalise’s eyes closed and she inhaled deeply through her nose before she turned to the man and told him to go. He left, gratefully, and Annalise kicked her shoes off and ran her fingers through her hair before glancing over at Bonnie. “Clean yourself up,” she said. “There’s a spare room upstairs, or the sofa. Choice is yours.” She picked the heels up and went upstairs, and a few minutes later Bonnie heard the bedroom door shut and the shower turn on.

Bonnie went back to the bathroom and washed her face again, before she had a long drink of water and took some pills for the pain that was blooming in her head. She stumbled over to the sofa and collapsed onto it, her entire body aching and her muscles screaming in protest as she curled up. She’d never go upstairs, she knew that. She’d never feel comfortable or secure enough to stay in any guest room that they had, no matter how desperate Annalise seemed to think she was. She didn’t fall asleep as much as pass out from exhaustion, but when sleep finally did find her, it was not restful.

 

***

 

“Do you want to tell me what last night was about?” Annalise asked, sitting in the armchair opposite the sofa, cradling a mug of coffee in both hands.

Bonnie had just opened her eyes and stretched out, groggy and disorientated. “Annalise-” she muttered, sitting up and glancing down at her legs. A blanket was covering her, a blanket that she most certainly hadn’t pulled on herself. “Annalise, I am so- _so_ sorry.”

Annalise stayed still and silent, just watching. Waiting for an explanation.

“I just got- I got overtired. And I let it get the better of me. I promise it won’t happen again.”

“Don’t lie to me, Bonnie,” Annalise said sharply. “You’re not a good liar, and it takes a perfect one to fool me. Tell me what’s wrong so I can fix it.”

Bonnie’s gaze fell back onto her lap, her fingers twisting together and shaking anxiously. “I don’t think you can fix this one, Annalise,” she whispered. “Not this one.”

“What is it?” she asked impatiently, pulling her dressing gown tighter around her body. “Is it the case? Too much pressure?”

“No! No- I can handle it. I can. It’s just- it’s mine.”

“Yours?”

Bonnie looked terrified. “My case,” she whispered, shame burning her cheeks and her neck, making her stomach churn.

Annalise’s demeanor changed instantly. Her eyes softened, and she leant forward just slightly. “Bonnie,” she said, her tone firm but gentle. The tone she used to talk to clients who were broken - on the brink of a breakdown.

“I know you’re not a charity, Annalise,” Bonnie said, unable to meet the other woman’s gaze. “And I don’t need charity. I was hurt- abused. That’s all. So many people deal with it, it’s stupid. I can handle it.”

“By a family member?”

“Yes. I’m not a victim. I moved on, it’s- I’m not a client, I don’t need help.”

“I’m not giving you help,” Annalise said, leaning back and taking a sip of coffee. “I’m offering you someone to listen. Bad things happen to good people, Bonnie. You know that as well as I do.”

“People who bad things happen to don’t normally go on to be successful,” Bonnie muttered, rubbing her head. “I don’t want it to define me. I’m more than that.”

“Don’t they?” Annalise asked, arching an eyebrow. She stood up and put the coffee down on the table before she moved to crouch in front of the other woman, resting her hand on Bonnie’s knee. “I’ve done well for myself, haven’t I? Made something of myself. And I’m not defined by my past, am I?”

Bonnie’s eyes met Annalise’s, and she was momentarily caught off guard by the vulnerability that her boss was showing her. The admission that she’d been through abuse, the affection, the acknowledgment and implication that she was going to be okay was too much, and her blue eyes misted with tears again before she brushed them away irritably. Annalise stood up. Their dynamic was restored. And then Annalise’s thumbs were brushing away the tears that were clinging to Bonnie’s lashes.

“The worst things happen to the best people,” she said quietly. “And the best people come through it, always. It won’t be easy, but you can do it, Bonnie. You can do it.”

Bonnie looked up at Annalise, and nodded, her jaw working as she tried to keep her composure. Annalise leant down and let her lips brush against Bonnie’s forehead, and the other woman moved so that their lips just barely touched. Their eyes met, and then Annalise pulled away so that she could rest her forehead against Bonnie’s and close her eyes.

“Annalise?” Bonnie whispered, her voice wavering just slightly. “Thank you- thank you for the blanket.”

The other woman laughed, the tension between them bending into something more flexible. She ran her fingers through Bonnie’s blonde hair and she kissed her lips gently. “How about we focus less on the past, and more on the case that we need to make today? And then maybe more of this later.”

Bonnie let a small smile tug at her lips and she nodded. “That- that sounds like a good idea.”

“Good,” Annalise said, straightening up and stretching. “There’s some coffee in the kitchen. I’m going to get dressed.”

Bonnie got up when Annalise had left, poured herself a cup of coffee and moved back into the office. Annalise was right, she thought. It didn’t have to define her. She didn’t have to worry about it all the time. For now she had a case to focus on, and a kiss to understand.

**Author's Note:**

> i don't know why i wrote this. i don't know if it makes sense. it's 3:34am. i've been awake for 987562752 years


End file.
